Page 30 of The Seaside Homecoming
“The passageway is being mopped as we speak. Please take off your shoes just inside the door. And leave your muddy dog outside.”
“Not my dog. Followed me home.”
“Then, for heaven’s sake, don’t let it in here.”
“I can try but the little beast seems determined to shadow my every move.”
“It’s your stick he wants. Leave it out there and he won’t follow.”
“This is not a mere stick, Miss Summers,” he said, as though deeply offended. “It is analpenstock.”
From somewhere above, a female voice called, “Chips? Chips!”
The dog paused, ears pricked, and looked over his shaggy shoulder.
“Quick,” Claire urged, opening the door to let Mr. Hammond in, sliding out past him to take his place, and shutting the door at her back.
The oddly familiar voice called again, and stained skirt hems and worn half boots appeared at the top of the stairs.
“He doesn’t mean any harm. Probably thought the man was offering to play fetch. Chips is a stray. I know he looks a fright, but he’s terribly friendly.”
That voice.
Claire eased out from the doorway to get a better look.
A young woman stood up there, hand on the railing, bent at the waist to see into the shadowy space below. She was slightly plump, with pleasing curves, windblown hair, and a fair face. A face she knew. Claire’s heart squeezed. Could this young woman be her little sister, who had been a tomboyish adolescent when last she’d seen her? The last two years had certainly changed her. She’d lost most of her childish looks and was well on her way to womanhood.
Claire stepped to the foot of the stairs. “Georgie?”
The girl’s mouth fell open, and she slapped a hand over it, eyes widening above rough fingernails.
A moment later, the hand fell away, and Georgiana cried, “Claire! Oh, Claire! I knew you’d come. I knew it!”
She flew down the stairs, and Claire set one foot back, bracing herself for impact, afraid the girl would knock her over.
She held out her arms, and Georgiana launched herself into them. Claire had to widen her stance to stay upright. Meanwhile the dog, startled by Georgie’s exclamations, bounded up the stairs to escape.
“Why are you here and not at Sea View?” her sister asked.
“I’ve gone into partnership with the owner.”
“Really? We’ve been so worried since we learned Aunt Mercer died and you had left.”
They had worried about her? The thought was oddly touching until she realized she had caused more strife.
“I am sorry to have worried you.”
Georgie gripped her hand. “At least you’re here in Sidmouthnow. And in Fran Stirling’s old place, yet. When did you arrive?”
“Only yesterday. I am still settling in.”
Her sister embraced her again. “Everyone will be so happy!”
Over Georgie’s shoulder, Claire glimpsed movement on the walkway above and looked up. A woman on the street paused at the railing, gaping down at them, one hand holding a parcel, the other to her chest.
Claire’s breath caught.Mamma.She almost didn’t recognize her, out walking alone, clearly no longer an invalid.
Mamma’s hand reached out, then drew back again, only to grip her parcel with both hands, as though a shield. She stood there, staring down at them. One moment. Two. Three. Then she turned and walked away without a word.
